Chapter 10
Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma ½ or any characters created by Rumiko Takahashi, any of the ones I've created probably aren't worth owning up to.
Keichi Morisato cringed and huddled for safety behind the motorbike he was working on, hoping against hope that the fact that this bike belonged to one of Urd's drinking buddies would be enough to save him.
It was a very nice bike, a Triumph Street Triple, all glossy black and carbon fibre. Keichi had serviced and tuned this bike using every trick he was capable of to coax every possible bit of power and speed out of the bike. He had the feeling the bike appreciated this and Keichi could almost feel a feral delight from the bike as it if sensed the improvements made to it and eagerness to try them out.
He was grateful for the opportunity to work on the bike today as it got him out of the temple which served as his home and the home of the three sisters who shared his accommodation.
Another growl emanated from inside the temple and Keichi hunched even lower behind the bike.
'It's just not safe around here.' Keichi whimpered 'Bell save me.'
Inside the temple itself the air itself crackled with energy.
The aforementioned Urd sat surrounded by files growling and gnashing her teeth. Said growling and gnashing had been going on for some time, early morning in fact, which was unusual. Early mornings for Urd generally ran from eleven, very early to one in the afternoon, much more civilised.
Such late mornings were, Urd considered necessary to maintaining her figure and looks. While this might not necessarily have been true it hadn't hurt. Urd had a figure that could have been described as hourglass, however hourglasses are rarely able to gather as many admiring glances as Urd's figure. Combined with her symmetrical features, exotic eyes, tanned skin and long white hair many who had seen Urd had been heard to whisper 'Goddess', which was in fact true for Urd and her sisters were Goddesses.
The Norns. Goddesses of Past, Present and Future.
Urd representing the past.
The files Urd had been reading were scattered with apparent haphazardness around her, but in fact they were organised in a completed logical and well thought out method, if Urd would ever care to explain it. When she had started reading this morning, she had been laughing, not whole-heartedly but a more modest 'oh that's amusing' manner. Unfortunately for the other inhabitants of the temple this hadn't lasted and the growling, gnashing and muttered threats of violence and dismemberments soon began.
The only person unaffected by Urd's foul mood was Belldandy, Urd's younger but not youngest sister. Indeed Belldandy had carried out her household chores with her usual cheerful and conscientious manner seemingly unconcerned and oblivious to Urd's descent into the blackest and foulest of moods.
Having washed breakfast dishes, sheets and clothes Belldandy had moved onto baking and proceeded to make sweet cakes and biscuits. Satisfied with her baking, now cooling on the kitchen bench Belldandy had filled the kettle and placed it on the stove to brew some tea.
With preternatural grace Belldandy made her way through temple that was their home. Belldandy glanced out into the courtyard and saw her Keichi crouched down behind a bike, obviously working hard. Her and Urd's younger sister Skuld was in her workshop presumably tinkering as usual on an overly complicated mechanism that Skuld had sky high hopes for and Urd and Keichi hoped they would survive.
Which brought Belldandy to Urd.
Engrossed as she was in her reading Urd did not at first notice Belldandy standing beside her. When she did notice, Urd did her best to ignore her, this was not successful. Belldandy was like a beacon of good will, cheerfulness and all is right in the world shining it's unwanted light into Urd's gloom.
"Yes," Urd managed between gritted teeth.
"What are you reading?"
"Files," Urd responded tersely, she imagined that if she stuck with single word answers of preferably single syllables Belldandy might get the hint.
"Really?"
'Completely oblivious,' Urd thought bleakly.
"What about?"
'She's smiling sweetly, I just know it. Blue dress, checkered apron, hands clasped together in front of her, leaning forward, sweet smile.'
Urd turned to face her sister "Ghaah," she managed as her fears were confirmed. 'It's worse than I thought.'
A gentle breeze had stolen through the open doorway and was softly brushing past Belldandy, her long brown hair lightly touched by the breeze's caress was rippling slowly behind her, a single strand crossing her face and tickling her nose. To make matters worse the sun had decided this was the moment to break through the clouds and a single beam of golden sunlight captured Belldandy. It was scene of such saccharine sweetness that Urd could feel her teeth and eyeballs rotting in her skull.
All was lost, Urd realised, her shoulders slumped as she resigned herself to the inevitable "A mortal."
'Again with the smile,' Urd gasped as Belldandy displayed her perfectly even and white teeth.
"Ranma Saotome," sighed a helpless Urd.
"Ranma Saotome?" echoed Belldandy.
"Ranma Saotome," yelped Skuld, who had been monitoring Urd from her workshop and had moved closer to eavesdrop using the SkuldTM Directional Microphone when Belldandy had approached Urd.
"You've heard of him?" Urd answered surprised and grateful for the distraction from Belldandy's overpowering sweetness.
Skuld nodded excitedly, her large eyes gleaming.
"How?"
Skuld didn't reply, instead she disappeared at a run back down to her workshop.
Belldandy and Urd watch Skuld disappear and then looked at each other in confusion.
Skuld reappeared as rapidly as she had disappeared clutching some well read magazines, one of which she handed to Urd.
"Mallet Wielder's Monthly?" queried Urd examining the magazine cover displaying an angry Japanese girl wearing a school uniform threatening the photographer with an oversized mallet banded with metal.
"A specialist magazine for all mallet users," Skuld answered rolling her eyes as if this should have been readily apparent even to the completely obvious challenged.
"Improve your swing in three easy steps," Urd read. "The Chef's Choice: The Combat Spatula by Ukyou Kouinji."
"Uh huh," confirmed Skuld nodding enthusiastically.
"And Ranma?" Urd asked.
Skuld took the magazine from Urd and opened it to the centre pages.
"Target of the Month?"
"Oh dear," Belldandy blushed at the photographs displayed.
Urd opened the fold out page in the middle of the magazine and held it up for a good view, "Oh my."
Skuld produced another magazine and handed it to Urd who was having trouble tearing her gaze away from the first, "And here's his Target of the Year Special."
10 10 10
Kenichi Miyamoto was a rising star in the world of the Japanese police. His knowledge, commitment and deportment were second to none. He had graduated summa cum laude from Tokyo University and had surprised everyone by failing to go into the legal profession, but rather he had followed his uncle into the police force.
He was initially not well received, he was considered a rich boy playing at being a policeman or the rumours were he was using the police force as a stepping stone to a career in politics. While these rumours still persisted those that worked with him knew better.
The senior police however had a different view of Kenichi. To them he was dangerous, a competent, intelligent officer with a natural talent for police work wise in the ways of bureaucracy beyond his years.
For the police were a bureaucracy and there is nothing more dangerous than someone who understands how it all works. The current head of the police for the greater Toyo area was so successful simply because he had no idea how anything worked, it just did. The thought that some-one understood how the multitude of levels of bureaucracy worked was terrifying in the extreme particularly to those who worked in the teeming mass of managers who mismanaged the bureaucratic process on a daily basis.
Which was why Kenichi was promoted to the head of police in the Ward of Nerima. Nerima had long been seen as a dumping ground for troublemakers, malcontents, a place where officer could be sent and conveniently forgotten.
Kenichi was determined to make a success of his latest appointment regardless of the intentions of his superiors. He was young and he was determined to do his best for the people of Nerima. No matter what the senior ranks of the police thought he was going to make his mark in Nerima and go on the bigger and better things. There were criminals out there and Kenichi Miyamoto was determined to bring them to justice.
Which was why he had called a meeting of the officers assigned to Nerima.
'It was not a sight that would strike fear into the hearts of evil doers,' Kenichi mused.
The officers ranged from overweight to the anorexic, the heavily muscled to the weedy and the grandfatherly to just out of high school. Kenichi when he had been advised of his promotion and transfer had heard of the reputation of the dumping ground called Nerima, this was maybe more than he expected.
It was less a police station more a waiting room for auditions for a Japanese Keystone Cops.
He had barely begun his talk when he was interrupted.
"Crime," snorted the oldest officer in the room, known to one and all as Pops. "What crime?"
Kenichi blinked uncertainly "Surely there's some crime?"
"Nothing major since those out of town bag snatchers tangled with the Nerima Ladies Historical Re Enactment League."
"Gangs?"
"Relations between the Nerima Martial Arts Knitters and The Crotchet Fu Club has been frosty but no outbreaks of violence."
"Youma?" Kenichi offered desperately, but wondering what Crotchet Fu involved.
"Most youma aren't stupid enough to come to Nerima."
"Perverts?"
"Tiny little girl on a duck."
"Tiny little girl on a duck?" Kenichi repeated slowly as he looked around the room looking for a sign that this was some sort of joke played on new arrivals.
"With a big mallet," supplemented a female officer reading at the back of the room.
"Do we do anything?" Kenichi asked wearily pretending he hadn't heard the last response.
"Traffic control for escaped cooking and around martial arts battles."
"Cooking?" Kenichi slumped into a chair.
"Akane Tendo's cooking can be dangerous," a grizzled veteran noted from the back of the room to a chorus of nods.
"Surely the martial arts battles must be in breach of the law?"
"Not in Nerima. Besides most of the martial artists are quite careful about bystanders."
"And it keeps all the builders employed."
"So what else do we do?"
"We have nice clean cars," offered a particularly fastidious officer.
"We practise fire drills," offered another.
"Community relations."
"Paperwork."
"What paperwork?" Kenichi asked "nothing happens."
"Oh, there's always paperwork" answered a bespectacled officer towards the rear of the room. "Form NPD-FRM-ST-AN-0034 Annual Stocktake of Police Stores, Form NPD-FRM-ST-0021 Stationery Order Form, Form NPD-FRM-RE-0012 Report of Unusual Chi or Ki Activity Weekly Report Form, Form NPD-FRM-RE-0054 Visitation by Deity or Extraterrestrial Being of Cosmic Level Power…."
"Visitation by Deity?" Kenichi interrupted "Surely you don't have…..
"Every other month," the bespectacled officer looked around the room for confirmation and received a few thoughtful nods.
"Every other month?"
"Every other month, at least," affirmed a portly officer through a mouthful of ramen.
"Sometimes several at once," noted another officer.
"Well behaved for the most part."
"Except for the trickster gods."
"And the bad ones."
"Minor deities are the worst."
"Always got something to prove those ones," one of the older officers noted to the sage nods of his fellow veterans.
"The good ones tend to clean up afterwards."
"Or subcontract the work to local companies."
"Good for the local economy that."
"Gojira, Mothra, Gamera?"
"Steer clear of Nerima for some reason."
"Gojira's still embarrassed after that silly American movie."
"CGI" snorted a female office not bothering to look up from her magazine on mallets.
"Men in rubber suits that's how monster movies should be made."
"More lifelike."
"Hard to tell if it's real or not with a rubber suit," Pops offered sagely.
10 10 10
Kasumi had decreed that Teri needed socialising with children his own age.
Fortunately for Teri this meant he didn't have to spend one day a week in the care of the pandas and Mr Tendo while Kasumi did the shopping and caught up with her few friends. Unfortunately for Teri this meant daycare once a week.
This created a set of unique problems for Teri, primarily the fact that he could speak as well as if not better than most adults and he was under strict instructions that under no circumstances was he let this become common. This was not a happy circumstance. On occasion it needed to be let known to the carers at the centre that he was in need of assistance. At the Tendo dojo this was not an issue, he would simply say "Excuse me, I need a drink, burping, I need to use the facilities" and usually in that order.
Here the only method of communication which he was allowed to employ was crying. This was not altogether successful as the carers or screws as he liked to refer to them did not seem to grasp the intent of his crying.
Cry number one he would have thought was obvious by now meant I need to use the facilities. This was almost always ignored and when not ignored the response from the screws was not appropriate to the situation at hand. This meant Teri was forced to soil his diapers which he found degrading, unnecessary and more than a little disgusting.
Cry number two was his give me a bottle cry, this was also mostly ignored, occasionally however a bottle was produced for which Teri was grateful and encouraged his belief that training the adults was not a completely hopeless exercise.
The thought of food however brought him back to one of the observations he had made early in his enforced stay in daycare. Breast feeding.
Teri was fascinated by this and on initial reflection had decided that the Tendo sisters were similarly equipped to provide this service as was Ranma in his girl form. Teri was wise enough to understand that Ranma would extremely unlikely to offer his services in this regards. Akane was out as her temper would make it hazardous to his health to even ask and something about Nabiki made Teri certain that Nabiki was actually the dangerous one.
Which left Kasumi.
He had broached the subject with Frank, who Teri considered a safer alternative for these conversations than the human inhabitants of the dojo. Unfortunately Frank was drinking when Teri raised the subject, which resulted in much coughing, spluttering, a very red face and it had appeared for a short time as if Frank was actually going to expire.
Eventually Frank had recovered his composure enough to convince him that asking Kasumi if she would be willing to oblige Teri in this matter would be unwelcome. In truth it was less Frank's words and more his extreme reluctance to fully articulate any coherent response even with signs that convinced Teri not to pursue the matter.
Teri was coming to realise that he was developing a deep fascination with breasts.
Which brought him back to the most depressing part of his incarceration. Conversation, it was most frustrating that he was unable to find someone to talk to during his time in daycare. The financial crisis sweeping the world, the general incompetence of world leaders and the seeming inability of the courts to appropriately punish criminals did not feature highly on the conversational priorities of his fellow detainees.
Goos, gaas, a giggle and the more than occasional passing of gas did not count as conversation.
'Seriously,' Teri thought, 'if this mob don't start developing some basic conversational skills shortly I will not be responsible for my actions.'
10 10 10
Kaoru Matsushima had not seen or heard of Tatewaki Kuno since Chapter Five.
This was not an altogether bad thing. On one hand, the bad, this severely restricted her ability to capture the eye of Kuno and press her suit.
On the other hand, the good, as a teenaged Martial Arts Drama Queen or Drama Queen Martial Artist she was able to milk this for all it was worth. Heartfelt sighs, moments of quiet introspection, moodiness, in fact all of this and much more. A rich vein of opportunities for Kaoru to exploit in the pursuit of her art.
If only others appreciated all the hard work she was going through. Did they appreciate her hard work?
'Not a chance,' she thought dourly. 'They all think I suffer from asthma or hayfever.'
'If only they would bring back full length skirts,' Kaoru mused. 'Then I could collapse, gracefully, from the vapours, onto a strategically placed seat while artfully displaying a delicate ankle inflaming the ardour of my prospective beau.'
It was hard being a Martial Arts Drama Queen or Drama Queen Martial Artist when even fashion was against you.
10 10 10
"What are we doing here again?" asked Ranma as he watched an abnormally large rat paddle past.
"A job for Mrs Yoshikawa Ranma, I've told you that three times now," an exasperated Nabiki answered.
"But what are we looking for?" Ranma peered uneasily ahead into the darkness of the Nerima sewers. They had been down in the sewers for three hours, it was damp, smelly and generally unpleasant, Ranma was not having a good time.
"Something that doesn't belong here."
"We don't belong here," Ranma said dodging something he or she as he was at the moment was reluctant to inspect because he was not sure he wanted to know what it was.
"Stop being such a girl Ranma."
"Nabiki," Ranma whined.
Nabiki splashed forward in her dark green waders until she stood beside the smaller girl and illuminated her face in her headlamps light.
Ranma turned and faced her.
"Ranma," Nabiki began patiently "Mrs Yoshikawa…."
"The librarian."
"Yes, Mrs Yoshikawa the librarian asked me if we could come down here and check the sewers for anything unusual."
"The librarian"" Ranma questioned. "You don't think it's strange a librarian would ask you to crawl around in the sewers?"
"I don't think she's just a librarian Ranma, but she offered to pay us to come down here and look around," Nabiki paused. "I think this could be some sort of test."
"Well then," Ranma began hopefully "maybe I should go home and study."
Nabiki reached forward and gently brushed a lock of Ranma's red hair back behind her ear before gripping the ear and twisting.
"Ow. Ow. Ow. What's that for?"
"Stop being a crybaby and come on," Nabiki strode purposefully forward and drug a grumbling Ranma in her wake for a few yards before releasing her.
Nabiki herself wasn't sure why they were down here 'Just look for something unusual' Mrs Yoshikawa had said.
'Great,' Nabiki grumbled to herself. 'Not how I wanted to spend a Friday evening, it's dark, it smells, Ranma's a girl and I really like it when he's a he. I mean what's going to be down here, probably something dead.' Nabiki thought for a moment 'Ok maybe it could be a community of Akane's cooking that has established their own civilization below the streets of Nerima or an entrance to the Underworld.'
'Also the Amazons are arriving this weekend and we still have some arrangements to make.' Further musing was interrupted as Nabiki noticed a strange luminescence coming from one of the side tunnels.
"Ranma," Nabiki whispered.
"Yes," he whispered back.
"Does that count a unusual?"
"Yes, can we go now?"
"Don't make me come back there," Nabiki turned to scold her fiancé only to find her standing close behind her sporting a large and cheeky grin.
"Yes Nabiki," Ranma smiled.
"Come on," Nabiki whispered annoyed.
The two teens crept quietly forward and peered down the side tunnel. Whatever it was that was producing the glow was about thirty metres down the tunnel where it opened into a large chamber strewn with debris.
As quietly as they could the two made their way up the tunnel staying in the shadows. They were travelling up a slight incline and as they reached the chamber itself they found that for the first time in hours they were not walking in water. What was sitting in the middle of the chamber was not a sight that filled either with a sense of wellbeing.
It was a bomb, how much was buried they didn't know, but about two metres of bomb protruded above the floor. Large fins dominated the back of the bomb and from where Nabiki and Ranma stood it appeared to be about five metres in circumference. Worst of all it glowed, green, a friendly and pleasant green, but green nonetheless.
This did not reassure Nabiki.
"It's a bomb," Ranma whispered awed.
"Yes," Nabiki whispered back.
"It's glowing."
"Yes."
"Do you think?"
"It's radioactive? An atomic bomb?"
Ranma nodded.
"Of course I'm an atomic bomb, look at me, I'm big, I glow in the dark what else could I be."
"It talks," Ranma said hurriedly. "I didn't know bombs talked, did you know bombs talked?"
Nabiki shook her head.
"What do we do?" Ranma asked.
"I don't know, I'm no bomb disposal expert."
"Oh, so now you're going to dispose of me. That's not really friendly."
"Um, hello," Nabiki said smiling weakly, she nudged Ranma.
Ranma looked at Nabiki and then getting the idea said "Greetings."
"Harrumph," the bomb harrumphed in disapproval.
Nabiki and Ranma looked at each other.
"We're sorry if we appear a little rude, but we don't get to meet many bombs," Nabiki said.
"Gods, demons, demi-gods, spirits, ghosts, heavenly messengers," Ranma listed. "Bombs, very new."
"Make you uncomfortable do I?"
Ranma nodded.
Nabiki answered "Yes."
"So," the bomb began "you're Nabiki Tendo and you're Ranma Saotome."
Both of them nodded.
"I'm, well I don't really have a name, I'm just the bomb. I do have a title though."
Nabiki frowned "A title?"
"I am," the bomb announced proudly "the Seer of Nerima."
"Never heard of you."
"Of course not if everyone knew about me there'd be pilgrims, worshippers and bomb disposal people swarming all over the place."
"So where exactly are we?" Ranma asked "Apart from the sewers."
"You are right underneath the Library of course."
"Underneath the library?" Nabiki looked up at the ceiling.
"Crashed through in 1945, landed here, didn't go boom. Surprised the hell out of me I can tell you."
"Really?"
"No," the bomb replied "I didn't know I was supposed to go boom. Well I did. But I was sure I wasn't supposed to be thinking. So I wasn't just surprised, actually I didn't know what to think."
Ranma and Nabiki just nodded.
"So anyway crashed here, didn't go boom. The Librarian of the time climbed down, I said hello, he screamed something about a talking bomb. I said where, he said who's talking. It went on for sometime like that before he calmed down."
"I can imagine," Nabiki said not feeling very calm herself but determined not to show it.
"You make it sound like you were calm," Ranma said.
"Of course I sounded like I was calm, I'm telling the story. It wouldn't be right if the one telling the story was screeching, yelling and threatening to blow up if people didn't shut up and let him think."
"You threatened to blow up."
The bomb glowed pinkly in embarrassment "I was stressed. I wasn't going to, couldn't even if I wanted to. I was supposed to detonate at altitude and I suppose I did, only I didn't explode instead, here I am."
"Mrs Yoshikawa knows you're here," guessed Nabiki.
"Yup."
"And I was sent to find you, why?"
"A test for one thing."
"A test?"
"It's thought finding an unexploded nuclear device is pretty good test of someone being able to keep their nerve and of course fighting or talking your way past the Village of the Lost Cooking is a good test as well."
"Lost cooking," mouthed Ranma.
"I don't want to know," Nabiki whispered back.
"Speak up, I can't hear you."
Nabiki turned back to the bomb "I would have thought living in Nerima is a pretty good test," she asserted.
"Well, I also needed to see you. By the way, what do you think?" the bomb asked.
Ranma looked puzzled "About what?"
"My home."
"I like what you've done with it," Ranma offered weakly. Nabiki looked across at Ranma and dispassionately slapped him on the back of the head.
"OW."
"You don't mind the green?" the bomb asked obliviously.
"It's a bit freaky."
"Freaky?" the bomb asked Ranma.
"Yeah, it's scary."
"Oh," the bomb pondered a moment."I see, it's got the whole I'm radioactive and you're all going to end up with two heads vibe."
"Or a hundred foot tall mutant monster."
"Ahh, Gojira," the bomb sighed nostalgically. "Knew him when he was just a gecko. Oh he's a big monster now, too good for his old neighbourhood. Forgot all about where he came from, never writes, never calls."
"Wouldn't fit down the sewer," Ranma said in an attempt to justify Gojira's behaviour.
"He could still write," the bomb pondered for a moment. "Well he could dictate a letter. It's not too much to ask."
Nabiki and Ranma nodded hurriedly, they had decided, independently of each other that agreeing with an atomic device was probably a good idea, regardless of whether it could detonate or not. It was not a risk either one were willing to take.
"Not that I leak radioactivity everywhere, that would be terribly impolite, just a little bit. Just that one time, he wanted to go into showbiz, he wanted to hit the big time. Ungrateful little gecko."
Ranma and Nabiki nodded sagely.
"I could get you a colour chart," Ranma offered.
"A colour chart?"
"Um, a chart with colours on it, for decorating. You could choose a nice friendly colour for the visitors."
"I don't get many visitors."
"Oh yes, and some nice floral curtains." Nabiki said sarcastically
"Do you think so, curtains?"
"Sorry I was being sarcastic."
"No, no curtains sounds wonderful."
"Maybe wallpaper?" Ranma said looking at the walls, his brief training as a martial art interior decorator kicking in " something in a lighter shade that could take on the colour of your glow depending on your mood."
"He's a lot cleverer than he looks this one," said the bomb.
Nabiki smiled weakly.
Ranma however was warming to his task.
"You know I think I could really do something with this space," Ranma said thoughtfully. Have you considered floor coverings at all. Clear the debris away, hmmmm, it would have to be tiles."
"I like checks," said the bomb.
"Large tiles, black and white check pattern, could be very stylish in here. Simple and a classic."
Nabiki was starting to wonder when this started to get so out of hand
"How about a coat of paint?" Ranma asked looking at the outer skin of the bomb.
"Paint?" the bomb asked shocked.
"Not keen on paint then. Still we could do something nice with the wall behind you there, make it a feature. A mural maybe? But something subdued so you remain the centre of attention."
Nabiki watched and listened in disbelief as Ranma and the Seer discussed interior decorating, it was less disturbing to think of the bomb as the Seer than the bomb. However when the two of them started discussing fabrics and the possible negative effects of the damp on furniture Nabiki decided it had gone on long enough.
She cleared her throat loudly and favoured Ranma with a venomous glare.
"So," the bomb said with the faintest blush of embarrassment "to business. I am the Seer of Nerima for good reason."
Nabiki and Ranma waited for the bomb to continue, realising that it was waiting for a prompt Ranma asked "And what is that great seer?" in a sing song voice.
"Do you want to slap him again?" asked the bomb unamused.
"Yes," said Nabiki shaking her head at Ranma.
"Please do so."
"Ow!"
"Now, as to why Mrs Yoshikawa sent you to me."
10 10 10
Hinako and Eriko had discovered to their dismay that magic girl transformations did indeed cure hangovers, the dismay arrived when you transformed back and the hangover crashed down on you again, suddenly and without mercy.
On the other hand happily for Hinako a side effect of being endowed with powers to save instant ramen gave a measure of control over her age. If she stayed aged eight for twelve hours a day, including time asleep, she could remain an adult the other twelve. This was revolutionary.
H-chan and E-chan spent every waking moment away from school partying. Unfortunately there was a serious drought of men that met the rather harsh standards imposed upon them. Any man impressive enough to meet their already high standards also had to pass A-chan's pervert test as well.
Both H-chan and E-chan had believed that A-chans test consisted of only one question and answer was male equals pervert.
Surprisingly enough this was not the case.
One man had received both their and A-chans approval. However Brunhilde had taken one look at the man and declared;
"Loser."
On reflection Brunhilde or B-chan as she was known within their magic girl and duck clique was probably right which was even more depressing than finding no-one at all.
Still, with the amount of time they spent looking they would find someone eventually and they were having a good time looking.
10 10 10
Wa Xing looked across the water to the Nerima docks.
As with every Amazon on the ship Wa Xing bristled with weapons, some armour and a fierce warriors scowl. In short she looked like an Amazon warrior going courting. It would be difficult to deny that Wa Xing or any of her Amazon sisters were beautiful but there was a severity and seriousness about them that made them less attractive than they could have been, even looking like a walking cutlers.
From the distance it appeared that there was a fair complete with ferris wheel and merry-go-round being held on the Nerima docks. That however was ridiculous.
However ridiculous that it may have seemed that there was a fair taking place, as the ship drew closer to the docks it became apparent that there really was carnival in progress on the docks where they were due to arrive.
Even more disturbing from the Amazon's point of view Wa Xing could make out a large banner fluttering in the breeze between tall poles reading 'Welcome Amazon-chans' in a large friendly hand. This was to say the least unexpected and disconcerting.
As the ship had approached the Nerima docks there had been a general air of tension and anticipation on board as each amazon prepared for their courtship battle with Ranma Saotome. That a single male was worth the journey to Japan for so many Amazons. Elder Cologne had been insistent however.
'This male,' she had stated in her letter 'was the most impressive martial artist of modern times and must be made part of the tribe.'
As amazons this meant one thing. Club, drug and drag.
Unfortunately from their own point of view it was they who would be on the club end. If this Ranma Saotome wasn't martial artist enough to defeat one of them then they had wasted a journey.
Rivalries had been bitter on the ship over to Japan, several Amazons sported bruises and a few others sported more serious injuries. But even they had hobbled to the deck hoping that they could be inadvertently knocked unconscious during the melee and claim victory.
This was the Amazon way.
It had worked for centuries. If there was an outstanding martial artist it was only right that they, if they were male, would be brought back to the village where their knowledge would be added to the vast store of Amazon martial arts knowledge. Whether the male was happy about that was immaterial, they were only male after all and after all the knowledge they had gained had been shared amongst the villagers, perhaps if they were physically impressive enough they would be allowed to breed. In any case, it was a male's place to be drugged, docile and obedient. If this Ranma Saotome was disappointing in any way he could be quietly drowned like so many others.
Outstanding female martial artists outside of the Amazon village were rivals to be destroyed.
Wa Xing was joined at the bow by her rival Wa Ning who joined her looking at the crowded docks, they could make out families with children holding balloons and feasting on fairy floss. Squeals and cries could now be heard from children on the more energetic rides.
"If they are this stupid," Wa Ning snarled "I doubt they can even perform simple martial arts."
"This is what happens when males are allowed to run things," sniffed Wa Xing derisively.
Wa Ning nodded in agreement, "Obviously Cologne has been exaggerating to protect her retarded grandchild."
Still the possibility that a worthy husband waited ashore was enough to raise the level of anticipation amongst the Amazons. As the ship closed to the distance from which the Amazons could leap to the docks a brass band began playing Dixieland show tunes conducted by a panda wearing a tall red cap and red waistcoat and waving a baton with more enthusiasm than finesse sowing confusion amongst the band members and fear among those closest to the podium.
The crowd had moved back from the edge of the dock and had cleared a path through to where roughly a hundred metres from the water's edge a young man stood in front of a warehouse.
It was evident that this was Ranma, not the least because a sign had just unfurled from the roof of the warehouse with a large arrow pointing at him with a legend proclaiming 'Here's Ranma.'
Eyes agleam with the prospect of battle and matrimony the Amazons leapt to the docks and charged to the warehouse with a roar.
Ranma never moved and as it seemed that the Amazon warriors were going to pile on the hapless boy, the large doors behind him sprung open with a speed that startled the onrushing women and suddenly a horde of club wielding animal skin clad maniacs was among them.
Chaos.
Just another day in Nerima.
10 10 10
'It was nice,' Nabiki mused as she leant against Ranma. 'To relax with family after a long day.'
The events of the day had left the entire household in a good mood. Not only had a good time been had by all, the threat of an Amazon invasion and fiancé stealing expedition had been averted and Nabiki had made a tidy sum from organising the fair at the docks.
Most importantly from both Ranma and Nabiki's point of view it seemed unlikely that there would be further trouble with Amazons at least for the foreseeable future.
The cream of the Amazon tribe were either married by Neolithic or Amazon law and in nearly all cases both, though not necessarily to the same person or persons. Cologne was last seen reaching for the rice cooking wine intent on drowning her sorrows wondering where and when it all went so wrong.
It was an unusually relaxing evening, the meal had been quiet as if everyone tired, yet satisfied from the day's events was content to share the rare moment of peace.
Unfortunately being Nerima this was never going to last.
A chorus of jarring howling and grunting noises started from somewhere outside, seemingly from just beyond the front gate of the dojo.
"That sounds painful," Nabiki said, wondering what could cause someone to cry out like that.
"Constipation?" a rattled Kasumi guessed.
'Constipation, is something I do not have to worry about at the moment,' Teri thought recovering from the initial shock and deciding to keep his mouth shut and listen, rather than draw attention to his current plight.
"Late Neolithic Poetry," Ranma corrected listening carefully. "Love poetry in fact."
"Poetry?" quizzed Nabiki startled.
"Love poetry?" squeaked Akane.
"Are you sure, it could be both?" Soun frowned in puzzlement.
"Both?" asked a confused Ranma.
"Constipation and poetry," Soun answered.
"Oh," Kasumi gasped "love hurts."
"No the boy's right," Genma stated with conviction, while casting a worried look at Kasumi.
"Neolithic Poetry?" questioned Nabiki.
"Ranma," Genma prompted his son.
"Early or proto-Neolithic Poetry was more of a performance art," Ranma responded. "Banging rocks together in one of six base rhythms punctuated by cries and yells as your fingers are caught between the rocks. There were of course numerous sub-genres where sticks, small animals and even audience members were included in the performance."
"Sound painful," Nabiki giggled earning a frown from Ranma.
"However by the Middle Neolithic period poetry had evolved and branched into two schools," continued Ranma in a stern tone, warming to his topic. "The surrealist school, which explored the subconscious desires of Neolithic society and the Arauugh school, named after it's founder, a realist school which explored the physical world and Neolithic man's place in it. For example;"
Ranma growled, grunted and let loose a massive belch.
"Or translated,
Killed a dinosaur,
Ate it's haunches,
Massive belch."
"Ranma, there were no dinosaurs around in the stone age," Nabiki explained patiently.
"I know that and you know that Nabiki-chan, but obviously those of the stone-age didn't share our education.
"Which," Ranma held up his hand to forestall any further interruptions "leads us to the Late Neolithic School, which has also been called the Romantic period. Here poetry was more concerned with the desires of and the expression of the feelings of the poet and of his society."
"Oooooh," oohed Kasumi.
"Classic poems of the time include; 'I Want to Club You and Drag You Off to My Hut', 'The Mournful Howls of a Young Raftist' and 'Ode to a Neolithic Pot'."
"That doesn't explain what that horrible racket coming from our front gate is," Nabiki said.
"Well, obviously it's a love poem for Akane," Ranma replied.
"WHAT?" Akane screeched.
"Oh," Kasumi gushed her eyes agleam "what is he saying?"
Ranma cocked his head to one side and listened carefully "Chunky thighs?" Ranma offered.
Genma nodded "Very good son."
Ranma's eyes widened a little in shock at the rare praise from his father, but then his father had been acting a little odd since his return from overseas. The football, the frightening attempts at fatherly affection, sporadic parenting and now praise. Something was definitely wrong with his father.
"Chunky thighs?" Akane shrieked.
Nabiki covered her mouth quickly to stifle her giggles.
'Glorious club swing,' signed Frank.
"You understand all that?" Nabiki asked Frank.
'Lot's of time in the zoo to study,' he responded.
"Poetry?"
'Yes,' Frank signed back.
"But Neolithic poetry?"
"Anything is better than panda poetry" Ranma shuddered.
'How many ways can you say you love bamboo shoots,' signed Frank sadly.
"Four thousand, eight hundred and sixty-four ways," Ranma groaned and then shuddered. "Not counting the more risqué applications of bamboo shoot love."
'Panda poetry is depressing,' signed Frank.
"And disturbing," finished Ranma.
"I don't know, Genma said "there's some very good panda poetry coming out of England about football."
"How do you even know that?" Nabiki asked incredulously.
"The internet," Genma answered amazed Nabiki even needed to ask. "How else?"
"Excuse me," Akane growled "but the noise from our front gate?"
"Brutish eyes, stubby fingers, mighty arms, clean hair," Ranma interpreted. "I think this guy really likes you Akane."
Akane, Nabiki noted did not seem to be taking all of this flattery well. Her stubby fingers, Nabiki noted giggling were clenched in fists of rage and if Nabiki was not mistaken it appeared that steam really was coming out her ears.
Akane stood with an inarticulate howl of rage and summoned a golf club.
'A nine iron,' Ranma noted 'obviously going for elevation.'
'Akane." Nabiki called to get Akane's attention before she could get out the door.
Akane growled in reply "What?"
"If you go out there and club him you'll be married again."
"Akane," Kasumi clapped her hands to her cheeks in shock. "Isn't it too soon to remarry?"
Akane stared shocked at Kasumi, the phrase 'Et tu Kasumi,' flashed through her mind.
Genma, uncharacteristically and wisely kept his mouth shut, a single snort escaped from Frank which earned him a glare from Akane.
"Akane?"
"Yes Ranma," Akane snarled as the grunts and growls continued from beyond the gate.
"Maybe you could take Hiroto."
Akane turned and stared at Ranma, there was an air of menace about her and her temper was stretched to near breaking point "The dog," she rasped.
"It's a good idea," Nabiki said in support of her fiancé.
Akane stared malevolently at Ranma and Nabiki, who in her opinion were sitting way too close. Glaring ominously at the pair only broadened Nabiki's smile and did nothing to halt the constant stream of grunts, yelps and growls from the front gate.
Akane growled her displeasure at the pair and turned and stomped out the door, disappearing into the evening gloom. Pausing only to call Hiroto to join her.
"I'll give you odds she's remarried within the next five minutes," Nabiki smirked.
Ranma's reply was cut off by a stentorific bark and a bloodcurdling screech followed by the sounds of bins being knocked asunder disappearing up the street. The occupants of the Tendo house looked at each other in confusion as Ranma sat with a self-satisfied expression on his face.
They all looked across as the door opened and Akane re-entered the room. Her face was pale and haunted, her eyes were wild and she walked unsteadily back to the table.
"You, you," Akane accused pointing her finger unsteadily at Ranma. "You taught that dog Daddy's demon head technique."
"Yup," Ranma smiled proudly.
10 10 10
Chaos reigned supreme at the Tendo residence as Ranma, Nabiki and Kasumi quietly snuck out the back gate avoiding the milling throng in the courtyard.
What had been a peaceful evening, interrupted only by an outbreak of poetry had deteriorated even further.
It had started with a knock rather than a bang.
The knock in question was Kuno, or more precisely a series of knocks, bangs, and demands to open the door. Kuno had been released earlier in the day, much to the chagrin of the court appointed psychiatrist who was hoping to create a career around Kuno's delusions. Kuno had heard the news that Akane Tendo was no longer engaged and/or married and was determined that he should be Akance's new fiancé, before the fiend Saotome once again exerted his evil dominion over her.
Unfortunately for the peace of the Tendo residence others having heard of Kuno's interest had decided that now was the time to register their intentions vis a vis Akane's affianced status. This had resulted in yelling, accusations, counter-accusations, protestations and finally violence.
All of which was annoying.
For the first time in what seemed forever it had appeared a semblance of normalcy had descended on the Tendo household. Granted having Neolithic poetry performed at your front gate was not normal by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn't violent, destructive or involving Kuno.
Ranma, Nabiki and Kasumi had looked at each other, grabbed Teri and made their escape. Making their way unseen to the rear gate they evaded the engagement frenzy inside. Deciding that ice-cream and a movie should allow enough time for all of the furore to die down they made their way around to the front of the dojo.
There laughing uproariously sitting outside the front gate to the dojo was Ukyou.
When she spotted Ranma and the others she coughed and wheezed to recapture her breath.
"Hello Ranma, Kasumi, Nabiki," Ukyou greeted them still gasping for breath.
They responded, Nabiki with a little more coldness than the others.
'Ranma might be more forgiving,' Nabiki thought 'but I still remember the freak comment.'
Ukyou stared at the ground shamefaced "I….I came by to apologise, you know, it was…."
"A shock," Kasumi offered kindly.
Ukyou looked up "Yes, I couldn't….I had to get away, I didn't know what to say, think. I was wrong."
Ranma walked over to her and gave her a hug "It's alright Ukyou, I understand."
Ukyou sniffled and glanced across at Nabiki who looked very unhappy and Kasumi who was holding something in her arms.
"A baby?" Ukyou said shocked slipping out of Ranma's arms and walking across to Kasumi.
Nabiki walked over and claimed Ranma's arm "Meet Akane's chicken teriyaki."
"Chicken teriyaki?"
"We call him Teri," Kasumi said.
"Ok," Ukyou looked a little uncertain "chicken teriyaki?"
"That's right," advised Teri causing Ukyou to take a step back, babies she was certain did not speak.
"We're going for ice cream and a movie," Ranma said laughing at Ukyou bewilderment. "We can fill you in over ice cream."
"Ok," Ukyou was still finding all this hard to digest.
"When we came up," Nabiki asked. "What was so funny?'
Ukyou snickered "I came over to apologise and when I got here all these idiots were fighting and yelling about wanting to be Akane's fiancé. So I called out what about me. It shut them up for about a minute and a half. You should have seen Akane's face."
Ranma grimaced "You shouldn't have done that."
"Huh?"
"You know you might now be my future brother in law?" Nabiki smirked.
"Oh my," Kasumi reached out and gave Ukyou a one-armed hug. "Little brother."
"What? No, they wouldn't , even those two, surely," Ukyou looked from face to face searching for reassurance.
"This is Nerima Ukyou. Think, what's the most unlikely thing to happen and that's what will happen."
"Thank you for your words of wisdom Nabiki," Ukyou responded. "Now I just need to go back inside and …."
"Too late now," Nabiki commiserated shaking her head sadly.
"Yup," Ranma confirmed." You might as well have ice cream."
Ukyou sighed, stared uneasily back at the gateway and finally nodded. "What's done is done."
Linking arms with Kasumi so she could get a closer look at Teri, Ukyou and the others set off for ice cream.
"So seriously, chicken teriyaki?"
"Seriously."
"Walking, talking food?"
"Food on the go," giggled Teri.
"You think this is strange Ukyou, there's a whole tribe of ambulatory food stuffs living in a village under our feet" Nabiki said her eyes glinting.
Ukyou snorted "Now I know you're joking."
10 10 10
Grok had become the shaman of the Fluffy Bunnies after the fiasco where the Fluffy Bunnies had been humiliated by a sprinkler system and a truckload of stray dogs.
A cold hard hatred had always festered in the core of Grok's being, a target for his hatred had never presented itself to him until now.
It wasn't Ranma Saotome, though his skill and power had nearly been enough to defeat the Fluffy Bunnies. Nor was it the girl Nabiki Tendo who had brought about their defeat through treachery and plumbing.
Nerima.
Nerima beyond the park was the target of his hatred. The more he dwelt upon it the more it ate at him. He hungered for vengeance, for destruction to visit those beyond the park and humiliation and despair to be theirs.
Grok was not wise in the ways of Nerima and wider world, but he knew their numbers were beyond measure. For vengeance to be satisfied he and the Fluffy Bunnies needed power.
For this he searched the chests left by his predecessors.
It was an old scroll, forgotten amongst the many trinkets and artefacts passed down from shaman to shaman from before Nerima existed even as a primitive village. Though obviously aged the scroll showed little sign of wear the material was soft and pliant, leather-like though finer than any he had ever touched before. It felt wrong and an involuntary shiver shook his body before he steadied himself.
He didn't know what had attracted him to this scroll among the many but some voice cold and seductive whispered to him and each time his hand had moved past it to a more welcoming item his hand stopped and again found it's way back to the scroll. There was no writing on the scroll, he would have been surprised if there was such was the age of the scroll instead there was an intricate pattern inscribed in reds and greens.
Now that he had the scroll unrolled and the corners pinned with rocks which had been gathered by previous shamans for their beauty or supposed power, he stared at the pattern unsure of how to proceed. He could not make out anything that looked like words that he could intone to invoke a spell nor did staring at the pattern make it coalesce into recognisable symbols as his predecessor had once told him magic scrolls were wont to do.
Without realising he reached out and started to trace the pattern with his fingers. A cold searing pain ran through his fingers and up his arms as he traced every more complex patters over the scroll and though his hands and arms felt icy he started to perspire and his head felt light as his eyes started to lose focus.
Finally as his fingers finished tracing the pattern a sharp pain as if knives of ice pierced through his eyes burning his brain with cold fire and making his vision split into kaleidoscopic vision of the interior of his hut. The small fire that provided heat and light to the hut waved wickedly thought his shattered vision until as suddenly as it had begun the pain and weird vision was gone and Grok found himself staring up at a tall man before him.
The man was tall, his skin dark and lips bloody red. His eyes were disturbingly powerful and Grok could not meet them, instead he found himself with head bowed respectfully.
"Who…who are you?" Grok managed at last.
"I am before names," the man spoke his voice low and strong. "When men were barely men I led them, I drove them, I brought them vengeance, blood and pain. Serve me well and your enemies will know only sorrow and death."
"You will destroy our enemies?"
"They will be wiped from this land, there will be none to carry on their name none to record their deeds or passing. All I ask is your devotion."
Grok smiled his eyes lit with the thought of vengeance on those that had dishonoured his tribe. "What do you need Master?"
"Stand."
Grok climbed unsteadily to his feet and stood head bowed before the nameless man. Cold hands reached out and gently cradled Grok's head drawing his face up so he looked into the man's eyes. Then the same sharp pain Grok had felt earlier returned as the man's eyes flared with power and the hands that gently held him now seared his skin with a cold fire.
"I am the Nameless God," the man growled as he held Grok . "Fear me. Worship me. Kill for me. Bring me worshippers. Bring me life."
Grok felt renewed the doubt and shame from the defeat of the Fluffy Bunnies had been replaced by a fierce resolve to serve his god. His Nameless God released him and he almost fell before he steadied himself and stood straight and proud.
"I will bring you worshippers Lord. Bless them as you have blessed me and we will raise Nerima in your name."
The Nameless God let his senses expand and flow through the village, he could feel the shaman outside the hut spotting his wife and guiding her back to the hut. The other villagers he could feel huddled in their huts wondering at the sudden chill that had settled over their village, soon they would belong to him as would all of the many villages that belonged to this tribe.
'Let this Grok bring me his tribe and I will bring fire to all would stand against me,' he had been cast aside and unworshipped for so long it left him weak. If he was to leave this place he must first satisfy the wishes of he who had summoned him, his first new worshipper. Others would follow as would destruction, fire and death.
But first Nerima must be destroyed and something more.
Two names came to the Nameless God
"Ranma Saotome, Nabiki Tendo," the Nameless God whispered. "You must die."